


there's more than one of everything

by flyicarus



Category: Captain America (2011), Political Animals, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, Comment Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyicarus/pseuds/flyicarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Washington DC, Steve Rogers attends an event where he meets, for the first time, TJ Hammond - a young man that looks exactly like his dead best friend, Bucky Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's more than one of everything

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Political Animals comment fic-a-thon [HERE](http://myherodrowning.livejournal.com/381690.html).

He’s empty.  
  
He doesn’t remember what it’s like to have his heart so full to bursting just because there’s someone beside him that he loves. He feels so alone in the world, a world that’s so completely foreign to him; Steve doesn’t know anything, and he’s angry, and he misses - well. He misses Bucky, like it’s a constant ache behind his chest, right in his heart, and some days he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to breathe, that the feeling will catch up with him and he’ll just collapse under the weight of the man he lost and the life they should’ve had together.  
  
He dreams of wading in the shallows of the beach at Coney Island, Bucky standing behind him, laughing when he gets pulled under by a wave swell, but Bucky always helped him up again. He remembers riding the rollercoaster till he was sick, just because Bucky wanted him to. He remembers lazy nights, the way their bodies would move together, drawing slow gasps and low moans from them both. Even in the war, with bombs falling all around them and strange weapons that only Howard understood, the fields and mountains and cities of Europe beneath their feet, there was nothing different. They always knew each other, and Bucky’s skin and soul was as good as his own.  
  
Everything seems terrible, and though he puts on a front for the others, even for SHIELD, but the truth is, he’s breaking, and he doesn’t know how to even  be anymore, without Bucky near him. Which leaves him at a function in D.C., Tony and Natasha and some of the others there as well, but as usual, he feels like the only person in this overcrowded room. Steve’s supposed to be talking up SHIELD so they can get more funding - the members of the Security Council are here, after all - and he’s supposed to be making friends and smiling, trying to be what everyone needs Captain America to be, but he just - He can’t.  
  
He makes his way over to the bar, and even though he can’t actually get drunk, he gets a glass of whiskey, tossing it back quickly, grateful for the burn.  
  
“Thought you weren’t supposed to get drunk,” a low voice says to his right, and Steve turns, only to be surprised.  
  
He knows who this is - TJ Hammond, former first son, openly gay and addicted to a whole bunch of things, probably even ones that Steve doesn’t know the words for. And although he knows who this is, all he can see is Bucky; the hair, the expressive eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the slow easy smile that hides a thousand and one things he’s not saying. TJ looks exactly like Bucky, and Steve won’t lie, it’s become kind of an obsession; he’s jerked off to TJ more times than he can count, imagining his childhood friend, his lover, the better part of his soul. And he’s imagined what TJ would look like without clothes, if he looks like Bucky all the way down to his toes.  
  
“I - um. I can’t, you’re right. But I just, needed something,” Steve manages finally, and he bites his lip, looking over the young man next to him. TJ notices his direct gaze, and only raises his eyebrow as he tips his own drink back.  
  
“One of those nights?”  
  
“One of those years,” Steve replies, and there’s something in his voice that catches TJ’s interest, because all of a sudden, his gaze sharpens, as if he’s really trying to see Steve, and his breath catches in his chest. They just look at each other for a moment, TJ’s expression caught somewhere between pity and whether he can make the decision that’s obviously on his mind.  
  
In the end, he gestures to the bartender, asking for the whole bottle of whiskey and he gets up, straightening his jacket and gesturing for Steve to follow, and Steve does. Tony catches his eye as he’s leaving, his brow furrowed and he looks like he might want to object - the last thing the Avengers need is for rumours about the Hammond boy sleeping with Captain America, but there’s something about the look in Steve’s eye, on his face, and Tony does something that he doesn’t often do: he holds his tongue.  


  


+

  
  
The bottle empties all too quickly, their skin buzzing with the feeling of it, though Steve’s mostly just pretending at this point, but TJ doesn’t seem to mind.  
  
“You look like someone I used to know,” Steve manages, and TJ pulls off his jacket, unbuttoning the first few fastenings of his white dress shirt.  
  
“Do I?” TJ asks, looking over at him, desire plain in his eyes.  
  
“My friend. James. I watched him die.” Steve isn’t sure why he says it, it’s certainly not necessary and it will probably dampen the mood, but the fact remains that he hasn’t been able to talk to anyone about Bucky, really, and he just needs - Well. He just needs to get some of it out, because he’s climbing against the walls, his mind overwhelmed with all of the things he can’t say because no one knows what to do after he opens up about it.  
  
“I’m sorry,” TJ says, standing close, his fingers playing along the waist of Steve’s trousers. “That must have been horrible. Were you close?”  
  
“We knew each other from since when we were kids. He knew me better than anyone. We were always together, always, and he was - we were - I mean-”  
  
“You loved him,” and the words come easy on TJ’s tongue, and there’s no judgment there, no speculation, only mild curiosity and the compassion that Steve hadn’t expected from him, but it’s there all the same.  
  
“Yes,” Steve says, his voice gone a bit breathless at the way that TJ’s hands are rubbing over his chest, his sides, tipping his head up and kissing at Steve’s jaw. And after that, there’s no more words. There’s only the way TJ pulls him to a bed, their clothes going everywhere, and Steve’s dizzy with it all - the way TJ’s mouth feels against his, their tongues tangling, the soft sounds they both make, and when they finally fuck, Steve’s on his stomach, fingers tearing into the sheets beneath him.  
  
TJ’s gripping at his hips, too tight but Steve won’t bruise even though he kind of wishes that he would, holding his ass up in the air as he thrusts into him, hard and just the right side of too-rough. Steve suspects that under any other circumstances, were TJ not drunk or high or both, that it might be different, slower, more tender, but this is the exact edge he needs, and the younger man doesn’t seem to mind that the name Steve cries out isn’t his.  
  
After all, it’s not like being with Steve means anything more to TJ than someone to fuck, so the former first son can’t begrudge the Avenger anything.  
  
They’re both getting something that they need.


End file.
